” She turned and looked at him. Besides, I thought you despised killing women. You might even tire of me by then, you know. I don’t love you. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar. Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. In fact, it would not surprise me to discover that they were both Leonardo’s. "It's Mrs.
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